


Royal Protector

by dragon_with_a_teacup



Category: Shades of Magic - V. E. Schwab
Genre: Emerhy, M/M, Magic, Minor Injuries, Protective Rhy, Romance, Swordfighting, Swords & Sorcery, post-Conjuring of Light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-13 03:12:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19242646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_with_a_teacup/pseuds/dragon_with_a_teacup
Summary: Alucard convinces Rhy to take a holiday, but an incident on the road results in a surprise for both of them.





	Royal Protector

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate title: I Am Never, Ever, Ever Writing a Sword Fight Again—Like, Ever

Rhy gazed out the window of the carriage at the bleak, rolling countryside passing by. Rain fell in a steady drizzle, though at least the storm didn’t seem to be worsening. Nevertheless, Rhy sighed.

“That is the fourth time you’ve sighed like that in a few minutes,” Alucard observed from beside him. “What’s the matter?”

“Is this a good idea?” Rhy asked. “Should I really be leaving like this?”

“You talk as if you’re abandoning the throne and your duties forever. It’s only a few days’ holiday.”

“But—”

“You have been running yourself ragged, darling.” Alucard laid his hand atop Rhy’s. “Even a king must take care of himself from time to time.”

Rhy managed a small smile, conceding the point. “Fine. But so must a royal guard.” His smile widened as he reached out and traced along the clasp of Alucard’s cloak. “Which I why you’ve accompanied me, I am sure.”

A sly smirk appeared on Alucard’s face. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Oh? Why did you come, then?”

“The scenery, of course,” he said with a gesture out the window at the frankly miserable, barren landscape. Rhy laughed, some of the burden on his chest lifting. He tugged Alucard closer by the collar of his coat. Their lips were a hair’s breadth from meeting when a knock sounded on the side of the carriage.

“Majesty, a word,” Isra called.

Grudgingly, Rhy let go of Alucard and sat back with a huff. “What is it?”

Isra called for a stop. The carriage slowed, then came to a halt. Rhy heard Isra dismount her horse, then come around to the side to look in on them.

“We’ve about an hour left of our journey,” she said. “I think perhaps it would be wise for me to go ahead, to ensure your accommodations are secure.”

“Isra, I’m certain it will be fine,” he began, but Alucard grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard.

“Excellent idea, Isra,” Alucard said over Rhy.

She lifted an eyebrow as she regarded the pair of them. “Will you two be all right if I leave you for a while?”

Rhy didn’t bother feeling embarrassed at her implication. “Of course. I’m with one of the most powerful magicians in the world, what could happen?”

She caught Alucard’s eye, seeming to silently warn him to remain professional in her absence, then nodded. “Very well. I will meet you outside the city. But if you don’t arrive by sunset, I  _ will  _ be coming back for you.”

“Yes, yes, mother,” Rhy said with a grin. “We’ll stay out of trouble.”

She bit back an exasperated smile. “I certainly hope so.”

“As do I,” Alucard said. “Until this evening, Isra.”

She nodded, then moved out of sight, nudging her horse into motion. In the front of the carriage, their other guard, Tash, snapped the reins, and their own horses set off as well. Rhy took the opportunity to sprawl out across the entire seat, placing his feet across Alucard’s thighs. In response, Alucard sighed, but squeezed Rhy’s ankle in apparent acquiescence. They fell into a companionable silence.

However, as they rode on, Rhy tried and failed to stop contemplating his neglected duties. So many grievances to answer, laws to consider, scrutinizing nobles to appease, unexpected questions to deal with. Seemingly never-ending and tedious tasks, which Rhy felt terribly ill-equipped to handle. In each instance, some small part of his mind cried out that his father would be better suited to dealing with the situation—or his mother, or even Kell. Not Rhy, the weak, shallow, inexperienced, spoiled royal. How could he be good enough?

He shook his head, as if that motion would dispel his troubled thoughts. Alucard had insisted on this holiday; Rhy owed it to him to at least attempt to relax. And he might as well start now.

“Might we stop for a while?” Rhy asked, turning to catch Alucard’s gaze. “I’m weary of being trapped in this carriage. We can find a place outside to eat.”

Alucard made an assenting noise, then called to Tash to slow the horses when he found a sheltered location. After a few minutes, they pulled to the side of the road. Rhy climbed out as soon as they came to a complete stop and looked around.

The town of Darchon was not yet in sight, not that Rhy expected to see it, considering the clouds and drizzle. The terrain, however, had changed from the low hills of earlier to more level land. More trees and bushes were scattered about and rustled softly from the gentle wind; a small grove stood near the road, and Rhy headed for it. The rain had lessened slightly, but was clearly still far from finished its quest to bathe everything in gray.

Alucard joined him after securing the horses and retrieving the food they had packed. The trip to Darchon was not overly lengthy, but Rhy was not so foolish as to neglect to bring provisions.

“Are you all right?” Alucard asked, eyeing him. “You seem… perturbed.”

“Who, me?” Rhy gave him a small smile. Alucard looked reassured at that. He pulled his cloak from around his shoulders and draped it across the grass in the center of the grove, though he left his sword strapped to his hip. Kneeling on the impromptu blanket, Rhy took it upon himself to set out the food. Tash remained next to the carriage, keeping an eye on the road to ensure they went undisturbed by other travelers.

“You know this will ruin your cloak,” Rhy commented.

Alucard shrugged as he settled next to Rhy. “I’m sure I’ll survive.” He eyed Rhy’s clothes, and his voice took on a teasing tone. “You in those clothes, on the other hand… I’m not sure  _ you’ll _ survive.”

Rhy glanced down at himself. As an extra measure of safety and anonymity, insisted upon by both Isra and Alucard, he had worn the garb of a commoner—no crown, a plain tunic and trousers, and an unadorned cloak. Comfortable, but hardly as lavish as what he was used to.

“I’m sure you could convince me to take them off,” Rhy said coyly.

Alucard froze, a flask of wine halfway to his lips. His eyes locked on Rhy’s, intense but also amused. He sipped the wine with deliberate slowness, then set it down.

“That sounds like a challenge,” he said, voice soft now. The quiet patter of the rain, the cool air, the whistling wind seemed to enclose them in a cocoon alone, where no one could enter save them. Rhy shivered, unsure whether it was from the slight chill in the air or from the atmosphere between him and his guard. Alucard shifted closer, holding Rhy’s gaze and trailing his fingers down Rhy’s jaw.

“I doubt it will be as much of a challenge as you think,” Rhy admitted.

They leaned into each other, but both jumped, startled, when a twig snapped nearby. Alucard tensed and sat up straight. His gaze was intent, as if he had sensed something nearby. Rhy twisted, then froze.

Tash was still in the driver’s seat of the carriage, but now he slumped forward in an unnatural position. As Rhy watched, his body tipped to the side and collapsed onto the ground, still. Behind him, the carriage smoked, flames springing up within.

Rhy’s mouth opened to speak, but whatever he might have said never reached his lips when he felt Alucard move beside him. The magician stood in a single, fluid motion to face the pair of men who seemed to appear without warning from the gray nothing surrounding the grove.

They came on, an overwhelming force, weapons flashing. Rhy scrambled backward as Alucard moved forward. But before a real battle could begin, and in the second Alucard started to summon fire, the balance of power already shifted.

A new attacker emerged, coming up on Alucard from behind. He clutched in his hands a sword, which Rhy recognized a second too late.

“Alucard—!”

A single slash was all that was necessary for the enchanted half-sword to take effect. Rhy watched the weapon slice deep into Alucard’s arm, watched a shudder pass through Alucard’s frame, watched Alucard collapse. The flames on his fingers faded into a smoky wisp.

The entire sequence of events took mere seconds.

Rhy continued to look on, and the men continued to move forward. But he realized with a jolt that they were not, in fact, coming for  _ him _ .

They were attacking Alucard.

For a breath, Rhy was only baffled. Since when was he, the ruler of Arnes, a lesser target? Then again, Alucard had been a privateer for years, and perhaps Rhy hadn’t yet been recognized, clothed as he was.

In the following breath, anger overtook his bewilderment. The sheer audacity of these men, whoever they were, to kill a man unawares, steal his weapon, and then set upon Alucard Emery, champion of the Essen Tasch? How dare they?

After his next breath, Rhy rose to his full height. He threw himself forward and seized Alucard’s sword, still unsheathed at the magician’s side. He faced the men, who had startled at the unexpected resistance. He stepped in front of Alucard’s prone form.

“Don’t you touch him,” Rhy hissed.

— — —

_ “Now, when you’re in a battle,” Alucard said, “remember to move your feet.” _

_ Rhy sighed and rolled his shoulders. He glanced around the courtyard, hoping no one frequenting the palace was witnessing this. “I’m trying.” _

_ “No, you’re focusing too hard on what your hands are doing to pay any heed to your feet,” Alucard said, calling his bluff. “If you aren’t shifting, keeping balanced, and staying mobile, your opponents will easily overpower you.” _

_ Rhy pursed his lips, but hefted his cushioned practice sword nevertheless. “Very well. Again.” _

_ Alucard smiled, and attacked. _

— — — 

Rhy ducked the first swing from his first adversary. This kept him from being decapitated, yes, but it put him in the way of the third man’s stolen half-sword, and he was forced to dance out of the way and parry the second’s blade. His adrenaline, combined with fury at what these men had done to Alucard, sent the sword flying from the bandit’s hand.

This did not seem to disturb the man, though, for a wicked smile spread across his face. He raised his hand, and flames burst into life upon his palm.

Rhy cursed, but spotted a glint in the grass out of the corner of his eye. The half-sword.

The bandit seemed to notice it at the same time, and threw the flame at Rhy. He rolled out of the way with a curse, feeling the heat of the fire washed over him. Luckily, the dampness of the grass prevented the fire from catching—for now.

Rhy knew he had only seconds. Keeping low to the ground, he crawled. He could hear his adversaries moving nearby, through the flames. If he didn’t reach the half-sword first, he couldn’t possibly win this battle; he needed it to negate the magic. More than that, what effect would the weapon’s spell have if used on him to dampen the magic that bound him to Kell?

He didn’t intend to find out.

He peered through the flames and smoke, sweat pouring down his face. A few feet away, he spotted the fire mage. And between them, the half-sword lay in an unburned patch of grass.

The man raised his hand, just as Rhy raised his, flinging himself forward. Fire erupted on the grass around the weapon, but Rhy’s hand was already around its hilt.

He leaped to his feet, threw himself at the man, and bore him to the earth. The back of his head collided with a flat stone embedded in the ground, and he was unconscious an instant later.

Rhy, though winded, forced himself upright immediately. He abandoned Alucard’s sword, preferring the security provided by the enchanted weapon, and vaulted over the low flames—which were fading now that their magician no longer fueled them.

Once he reached safe ground, he whirled.

And came face to face with the second bandit.

— — — 

_ Alucard’s chest heaved. He leaned against a pillar, sweeping his hair from his forehead. Rhy, watching from a few feet away, willed himself to stay focused on the lesson and not on the way Alucard’s skin glistened with sweat. _

_ “Good,” Alucard said. “Very good. Your height and strength is an advantage you’re finally learning to use.” _

_ Rhy ignored his half-teasing smirk. “Thank you.” _

_ “Just keep aware of your movements, and you can gain the upper hand. And we still need to work on your speed…” _

_ Rhy groaned as Alucard pushed off the wall with a wider smile now, clearly ready to resume. _

— — — 

Rhy was down to two opponents, but even as he parried another onslaught, he hesitated to kill them. These were his subjects after all, as far as he knew, and besides—could he even defeat them both? Alucard’s instructions had mostly consisted of self-defense and disarming, and had never involved more than one person.

He parried with the half-sword, then dodged away. If he made for the trees, feigning retreat, perhaps he could draw them away from Alucard. When he heard their pursuing footsteps, relief rushed through him.

Once a decent distance away, Rhy slowed and sought a place to make a stand. The edge of the grove consisted of spread out, narrower trees, and more uneven ground.

Before Rhy could decide whether or not to engage them here, the bandits descended upon him. He staggered backward, on the defensive, eyes flicking back and forth between them. He watched their movements—one appeared to be favoring his left leg, but Rhy couldn’t be certain. Still, it was worth a try.

He feinted to the right, but at the last moment darted to the left, tackling the bandit, who cried out in surprise. His sword skittered across the ground, just out of reach of his scrabbling fingers.

Rhy could have gone for a killing blow while they rolled across the grass, but he refrained. Rather, he raised his blade and brought its pommel down upon the bandit’s head. When he was assured his enemy was no longer a threat, he forced himself back to his feet.

He turned to face the final fighter, who stood a few paces away. Rhy’s chest heaved, but fear for himself and for Alucard fueled him. He adjusted his grip on the half-sword’s hilt, swept his hair off his forehead, and faced the man.

“What?” Rhy asked with feigned bravado. “Have you not had your fill yet?”

— — — 

_ “Are we done yet?” Rhy asked. _

_ Alucard raised his eyebrows, though he too looked fatigued. “Very well, if Your Majesty demands it.” _

_ “Quiet,” Rhy said, though he couldn’t repress a chuckle. He knew his words had sounded very much like those a spoiled royal, but he didn’t want to admit it. He crossed over to Alucard, took the sword from his hands, then straightened his magician’s tunic. “I wasn’t so bad, was I?” _

_ Alucard eyed him, half in appraisal and half in blatant affection. “You’d probably have been killed a dozen times, but for a first lesson, you were… passable.” _

_ Rhy shook his head, amused. “You’re being kind. I’m not as skilled as I’d like to be, but I can improve.” _

_ “Of course.” _

_ “Then again, I wouldn’t have really been killed, would I? Considering Kell’s spell.” _

_ Alucard scowled a bit. “Don’t let that influence how you fight,” he warned. “You still feel the pain, and if your opponent learned of your… situation, they could torture you.” _

_ “That’s a bit of a leap.” _

_ “So is a scenario in which you’re being attacked without me to defend you, so forgive me for being cautious.” _

_ “And fatalistic.” _

_ “Quiet.” _

_ “Make me.” _

_ Alucard laughed at that and took Rhy’s hand. Together they proceeded out of the courtyard. “Your wish is my command.” _

— — — 

Two down, one to go.

The last fighter, luckily, was at least a head shorter than Rhy and more slender. He was fast, but Rhy was faster. And it seemed this bandit had no magic, putting him a further disadvantage. Getting him on the defensive was simple, as he seemed shaken at the sight of his two comrades unmoving on the ground.

In those next moments, Rhy realized how to win. Alucard wouldn’t approve, but then, when did Alucard ever approve of the risks Rhy took?

Rhy let his sword arm fall, just a bit, just enough to allow his opponent past. The man’s sword dove into the opening, and Rhy allowed the blow to connect. The sword pierced his leg, and he couldn’t—didn’t bother trying to—stop the cry of pain that forced itself out of his mouth.

However, he managed to stay on his feet, even after what should have been a debilitating blow that sent him to his knees were he a normal man.

The man’s eyes widened, and in that second of astonishment, Rhy lunged.

The blow to the bandit’s head was swift, and he slumped to the ground with a groan.

Rhy stood over him and surveyed the area. The grass was bent and flattened all over, revealing the path he and the bandits had taken during the fight. One small sapling was bent at an extreme angle underneath the second defeated man. But those men were still, Rhy had won, and quiet had fallen across the grove once more.

Paying no heed to the wound in his leg—it was already sealing—Rhy rushed forward and dropped to his knees in front of Alucard, his sword falling forgotten to the ground. “Are you all right?” He hardly knew what to do with his hands; they clutched at Alucard’s shoulders, hands, face, but only landed briefly before jumping to a new spot. “Luc, talk to—”

“I’m fine,” he said, rolling from his side onto his back. Although he seemed only half-awake and dazed, he managed to find Rhy’s flailing hands and stilled them with his own. The next breath he let out was shaky.

“Are you certain—?”

Alucard rolled his eyes. “Of course. A minor cut.”

“Can you stand?” Rhy asked, dropping the issue for now. First and foremost, they needed to leave this area; who knew if there were more bandits about. And the burning carriage would be an obvious signal that trouble was afoot. When Alucard nodded, Rhy wrapped an arm around his waist and helped him to his feet. However, the moment Alucard straightened up, his knees buckled. Rhy reassessed, lowered him back to the ground. “Apparently you can’t. Hold still.”

He examined the wound. It gushed blood, and dread stole into Rhy’s heart.

“It’s fine—”

“Silence, Luc,” Rhy snapped, “and let me take care of you.”

Alucard raised his eyebrows, but he stopped protesting. Rhy picked up Alucard’s cloak from the ground and considered it. It was soaked through and muddied now, so Rhy tore off several long strips before kneeling beside Alucard again.

“What are you doing?” Alucard asked.

“Well, you’d already ruined it,” Rhy said, “so this hardly matters.”

He shifted closer and began removing Alucard’s tunic. “I thought this was  _ my  _ job,” Alucard grumbled.

Rhy elected not to dignify that with a response. Instead, he set about cleaning the gash in Alucard’s arm and wrapping it with the strips of cloth. Not the best operation, but better than nothing, Rhy supposed. It only had to last until they reached Darchon, after which a proper physician could tend to it.

“Rhy.” Alucard’s voice had gone sharp, alarmed. “Your leg…”

“I know. It isn’t serious.” He couldn’t resist a small but smug smile. “A brilliant strategy, if I do say so myself.”

Alucard’s eyes bulged. “You  _ let  _ him stab you?”

“Not now.” Rhy dismissed the subject with a diplomatic wave of his hand. “We need to go. Try not to jostle your arm. I’ll drive the carriage—”

He made to stand, but froze halfway up. “Ah, right.”

The carriage still smoldered, though the drizzle had put out the worst of the flames. Nonetheless, the roof had caved in, and two of the wheels were blackened and crumbling before Rhy’s eyes.

When Rhy turned back to Alucard, the man was frowning, though not without a hint of amusement in his deep blue eyes. “You don’t even know how to drive a carriage, anyway.”

Rhy tried to prevent the relief from showing on his face, though doubted he succeeded. “I know the theory.”

Before Alucard could retort, Rhy rose and picked his way through the maze of bodies toward the road, his leg twinging only slightly with every step. Just one of their horses remained, skittish and hiding among the trees. Rhy assumed the other had fled in panic when the fire had started. He coaxed this horse to his side, stroking its nose and murmuring to calm it.

After he secured the animal to a tree, however, he hesitated. He could hardly leave the bandits behind like this…

He strode over to the nearest man and nudged him gingerly with his foot. When he didn’t stir, Rhy knelt down and started unfastening his belt.

“Rhy?” Alucard asked, his voice laced with consternation.

“It’s fine,” Rhy said. He pulled off the belt and—with much toil and cursing—got the man mostly upright, slumping against a tree. He wrapped the belt around the man’s wrists and then around a thin branch above his head until he was secured like a strange, unconscious, imprisoned marionette.

“Bard has been a bad influence on you,” Alucard commented.

“What do you suggest I do, leave them lying on the ground so they can get away?”

Alucard’s only reply was a sigh, but he didn’t protest as Rhy repeated his process on the other two bandits. Once finished, he scanned the ground, located the magic-imbued half-sword again, and reclaimed it. Satisfied, he returned to the horse, intending to coax it further into the trees toward Alucard.

However, a groan drew his attention: Alucard had climbed to his feet of his own volition, but clutched his bandaged arm with his good hand. “This is going to make riding difficult.”

Rhy crossed back over to him, placing his own hand over Alucard’s, tracing one of the silver veins on his forearm. Blood was starting to stain the bandage, but Rhy tried not to focus on that. “I suspect you’re correct. And I’m sorry, but we’ve only one horse.”

Alucard grimaced but didn’t complain. Together, with much maneuvering and contortions, they mounted the horse, Alucard in front but Rhy holding the reins. He snapped the reins with what he hoped was a confident motion. The horse trotted forward, and Rhy sighed, letting himself relax a bit.

Alucard, however, sagged back against Rhy. “Are you all right?” Rhy asked.

He received only a nod in response, which did nothing to reassure him. The half-swords of the royal guard were meant to negate a magician’s abilities for a time, but were not intended to inflict any lasting physical harm. Rhy knew this, having listened to Kell consult on and add to the spells years ago. Therefore, Alucard’s continued discomfort must stem from the injury itself. As subtly as he could manage, Rhy touched the bandage. When he pulled his hand away, it was tacky with blood.

“Hold on, Luc,” he whispered, and pressed his lips to Alucard’s cheek.

The remainder of the ride to Darchon was blessedly uneventful, other than the obvious peril Alucard was in. Perhaps due to the weather, no other travelers appeared. The city walls had just come into sight, backlit by the hint of a sunset peeking through the clouds, when the sound of another horse reached them. Within moments, Isra appeared over the crest of a hill. Rhy’s shoulders slumped in relief at the sight of her.

When she spotted them, she frowned. Rhy rushed to explain before she could ask.

“Nothing to trouble yourself with overly, Isra. A minor incident. I dealt with the situation.” He felt a twinge of guilt over the faux-confident tone he put on when he thought of Tash, whom they had been forced to leave behind.

“What happened?” she demanded anyway. “Where is Tash?”

The silence that met her served as an answer, as did Rhy’s fidgeting with the reins. Her nostrils flared, and she fixed her stern gaze upon Rhy. She inhaled and exhaled once slowly, as if steeling herself, before she spoke. “What happened, Your Majesty?”

He trotted the horse closer to her, and her mount fell into step beside them as they headed into the city. Quietly, Rhy explained what had occurred—their stop along the road, the bandit attack, Alucard’s injury, the burned carriage. When he finished, just inside the city gates, Isra sighed.

“I feel I must point out, Your Majesty, that I did suggest we bring more men on this journey.” She hurried on before Rhy could do more than open his mouth to protest. “But at least Alucard had the foresight to teach you basic sword fighting.”

Rhy didn’t have to see Alucard’s face to know he now wore a rather smug expression. Still, he also couldn’t deny the truth of Isra’s words.

She flicked her own reins and moved her horse forward faster. “I’ll show you to where you are staying,” she said, “and then I will go clean up your  _ mess _ .”

Rhy ducked his head, chastened.

The inn where they were staying was in the center of the metropolis, though it was such a small city compared to London that there was still a clear view of the ocean from the second story rooms. Rhy allowed himself and Alucard to be ushered upstairs by both Isra and the innkeeper. But Rhy hardly took notice of their accommodations, too worried by the sickly pallor of Alucard’s skin.

Rhy and Isra eased Alucard into a chair by the hearth, where a fire blazed. Rhy immediately dropped to his knees beside him. Isra and the innkeeper had a quick hushed exchange near the door, and the latter hurried off.

“A physician will be along shortly,” Isra explained, her voice terse. “I am going to return to where you were… accosted.”

Rhy bowed his head. “Thank you, Isra. And… I am sorry. I know you didn’t approve of this trip initially, and this isn’t what I had in mind either.”

She held his gaze, then nodded. “I know, Majesty. But I am grateful you were able to defend yourself. Now, please, stay here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

She turned and left, closing the door behind her. Rhy heard a distinct click and knew she had secured the door with her key.

“It seems she doesn’t trust us to not get into more trouble in her absence,” Alucard said. His voice was steady, but Rhy saw the pain written upon his handsome features.

“Oh, please,” Rhy said with more assurance than he felt, “we can still unbolt it from this side.” He tucked a lock of Alucard’s hair behind his ear. But before he could say more, perhaps words of reassurance or even worry, a knock on the door interrupted.

It was the innkeeper and the promised physician. Rhy knew Alucard didn’t approve of his readily opening the door—he could practically hear his guard saying “that could have been an assassin!”—but Rhy was too anxious to get help to care. Besides, he recognized the innkeeper’s voice.

Rhy then spent the next few minutes helpless to do anything but watch the physician tend to Alucard. The wound, once freed of the haphazard bandaging, proved to still be bleeding slowly but steadily. The physician worked with efficiency, though, and cleaned and closed the gash with what appeared to be minimal effort.

Then, to Rhy’s displeasure, the physician insisted on checking over the gash in his leg. It was already closed up, but the man insisted on wiping away the dried blood and pressing a bandage to it before he was satisfied.

“I think,” Alucard commented as the physician wiped off his tools and left the room, “you should learn the basics of tending to injuries next.”

Rhy didn’t disagree. Relieved to be alone again, he sunk into the seat the physician had vacated and took Alucard’s hands. Then, realizing both Alucard’s and his own were still bloodied, he retrieved a cloth and began wiping away the stains.

“You needn’t,” Alucard said, but Rhy shook his head. “Rhy, I’m supposed to take care of you, not the other way around.”

“No trouble. Unless you are referring to earlier, and regarding that—you weren’t in a position to do so at the time, so I didn’t have much choice.” Rhy made sure to say it gently, however, for fear that it would sound as if he were blaming Alucard for what had happened. “Who were those men, anyway?”

“Pirates,” Alucard said, “from one of the last ships I took down before I met Bard. I thought no one had escaped, but clearly I was wrong.”

“Their revenge was a long time coming,” Rhy noted.

“Do not underestimate the ability of pirates to hold grudges.” Alucard’s mouth twisted in a wry smile.

Rhy, though, was not amused. “Fair enough. But… what if more of them come after you?” He didn’t dare mention the possibility that these men, if there were more free and seeking Alucard, might decide to harm Rhy to draw Alucard out. Not that Rhy feared what might happen for his own sake, but he dreaded the distress it would cause Alucard.

“Between the two of us, I’m certain we can handle it,” Alucard said dryly.

In spite of the solemnity of the conversation thus far, Rhy found himself trying not to grin. “Handle  _ what _ , exactly?”

Startled, Alucard laughed. “You know what I mean, you ridiculous man.” He squeezed Rhy’s hands somewhat urgently, though, and his voice turned serious again when he spoke next. “I have no doubt that, if more of that crew try to harm me, you and I and Isra can fend them off. Besides, worrying about it will hardly help. This is meant to be a holiday, after all, as I keep reminding you.”

Rhy nodded. “I know, I know.” He tried to push away his concern for Alucard to the back of his mind, knowing the man was right.

“Also…” Alucard sounded stern now. When Rhy looked up, though, he was smiling, fond and rather proud. “What you did was rash, Rhy, diving into battle like that against three men at once. You could have been killed.”

At that, Rhy couldn’t help lift an eyebrow. “I doubt that.”

A roll of the eyes. “You know what I mean. You could have been injured even worse than you were, or you could have not been able to defeat all of those pirates and they could have kidnapped you…” Alucard shook his head in exasperation, but leaned in to rest his forehead against Rhy’s.

Rhy leaned into the touch. “I’m fine.”

Alucard’s expression was soft. “What you are is a fool, Rhy Maresh. But I’m grateful for what you did for me.”

Rhy smiled. “I would do it again.” He set aside the cloth, now smeared with rust-colored streaks, and ran his fingers across Alucard’s now-clean knuckles. “It seems I’m rather adept, too.”

“You’re adept at many things, my love,” Alucard murmured. “You just don’t allow yourself to see it much of the time.”

At those words, Rhy thought of the responsibilities he had waiting for him in London—the grievances, the laws, the concerns of the nobles, the questions. Then, he thought of what the next few days would consist of—reading, watching performances, walking with Alucard at the seaside. He thought of the future: asking for help, making difficult decisions, and finally learning how to rest. “I’m not as adept as I wish to be,” he admitted, “but I will improve.”

Alucard’s thumbs stroked across the backs of Rhy’s hands, and he smiled. “Of that, I have no doubt.”

“You always have been supportive,” Rhy said. “I do hope I’ve told you lately how appreciative I am?”

“You don’t need to. Besides, of course I believe in you. How could I not?”

Rhy wondered fleetingly if he could use the heat from the fire beside them as an excuse for the warmth in his cheeks. “Quiet,” he whispered.

Alucard’s grin shifted into something more teasing. “Make me.”

In response, Rhy pressed his lips to Alucard’s. The familiar feeling of his mouth sent a shiver through the king’s body, and he shifted closer. Alucard cradled Rhy’s jaw, and his other hand attached itself to the front of Rhy’s tunic.

His ginger movements gave Rhy pause; he pulled back, eyeing Alucard’s wounded arm. “How are you feeling?” he asked, ignoring how breathless he already sounded.

“Better, now get back here,” Alucard commanded, and tugged him close again. Rhy wanted to laugh, until Alucard deepened the kiss, and all amusement was overtaken by desire.

“Luc,” he breathed. Without thinking, he pulled them both upright and toward the bed in the center of the room. Even shedding his tunic and still kissing Alucard, he only stumbled once, a feat he prided himself on.

However, as they crawled under the bedclothes, Alucard pulled away. “Rhy…” he began, “you know I hate to pause in these… activities, but I did lose quite a lot of blood today.”

Rhy pursed his lips and sank into a pillow. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m getting carried away.”

“If the day had gone as planned—”

“Luc, don’t,” Rhy interjected. He didn’t like the apologetic tone. “There’s no need to explain or ask my forgiveness.” He touched Alucard’s face, eyes roving over his ever-fascinating features. “You’re here, you’re safe, and that is all I need right now.”

He sat up and draped the bedclothes across both of them, then settled back down. Alucard gazed at him from the other pillow, looking thoughtful. “It isn’t your job to protect me, you know,” he remarked without venom.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Rhy said. “You may be my guard, but that doesn’t mean I cannot be your caretaker. So sleep, Alucard.”

Alucard pursed his lips. “Fine, though I do wish we could continue what we were doing…” He leaned in for another kiss, which Rhy bestowed with a laugh.

“You said yourself, you lost a lot of blood, as annoying as that is.” Rhy guided him back down onto the pillow. “You’ll feel better in the morning. Then we can have a proper holiday.”

Alucard smiled, closing his eyes. “We deserve a holiday.”

“That we do, my love.”

And Rhy finally let himself rest.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone wonders/cares, Darchon isn't officially from Shades of Magic; I made it up as an Arnesian equivalent of Brighton.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
